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When you wake up chipper and happy about the creepy, vile, disturbed dream you had and find it interesting because at least it was not in your go to real life inspired nightmares.
You know you have PTSD when you wake up in Intensive care after a huge alcohol binge that nearly kills you and puts you in a coma for a week, for the consultant to walk on ward as you are walking out with monitors and drips to pop for a cigarette. He nearly falls over because he was certain you were dead within 5 minutes of him leaving the night he tried in his eyes in vain to saveyour sorry ass. He then comments, Yes Mr Davey but Excuse me sir This is after all Intensive care and people usually die here not rise again and start bloody walking like you are, I will grab My ciggies and Joine outside for one :D
@FridayJones Thank you for this. I live in a secure building...yet I barricade apartment door at night.. Not sure if to keep others out --- me in -- or sadly both. Sleep with police grade pepper spray next to bed.
Sometimes I prepare for bed and just shake my head....my life wasn't always like this....
When this thread becomes home. And you wake-up remembering some post, and think, "that's not a bad idea - sleeping in closet. I should clean mine out and make space."
... when bathtubs also work for sleep just fine. (Right, this wasn't a rec list?)
... when you realize you told a PTSD forum more about your life than people you're in care of, again.
... when people from a PTSD forum make it to mental list of 'my homies' and you didn't even have that category for strangers a few months ago.
... and when remembering your past year this time, you realize you're not up for that self sabotaging stuff again because it's possible to jump out of that pit instead of just dig deeper and take it through hell.
When you read through messages about bathtubs and closets and recall that actually you felt more safe and slept more soundly in both! Except when you wake up in the middle of the night and bash your face into the faucet, that stings and leaves weird marks.
... when you get an email from an old friend who finds herself in dire straights and you feel nothing much in the way of sympathy for her, as you recall how she treated you once, basically deserting you. You're not sure you feel like helping her, though you know you probably will anyway, just for old time's sake.